Under The Stars

For Argus, the last six days have been full of happiness and excitement. At 16 years old, he is becoming a real horse.

When I last left you, not quite a week ago, Argus was celebrating his first pasture experience. It went so well that the following day, I turned Argus out with Odie, our mule and Half Pint, our draft horse (both of whom would rather eat and visit than run). On Friday, I added Dancer, the creaky old Thoroughbred boarder. He's the herd boss. Dancer is the only one of the pasture geldings that has not been turned out with Argus before. Dancer gave Argus his signature evil eye, then turned back to his hay. All was well. During those three days, Argus spent the entire day turned out --- from 9 until 5 --- looking as if he'd lived this way his whole life. I could not believe it.

On Saturday, I added the fourth and final pasture friend, Buster, an energetic 19-year-old Thoroughbred who boards with us. Buster and Argus are friends. Again, no drama.

Argus handled being led out to the pasture gate like a seasoned pro. He stepped inside the gate nicely, and swung around to face me for un-haltering, the way I had taught him. Even when a pasture horse approached to investigate, Argus stood quietly, waiting for me to finish and turn him loose. He walked away casually, Odie snuggled against his side. They were off to hunt for surviving clumps of grass together.

On Sunday, Argus went out early, at breakfast time, joining the small group for a meal. He stood along the fenceline, munching hay happily out of a feeder. He discovered that he can make Odie move with just a glance. Buster, too. It seems that Argus has fallen into the middle of the pecking order. He is not quite sure what it all means, but he wields his newfound authority with grace and ease, a regal Thoroughbred through and through.

The strange thing about all of this is that I have never introduced a horse into our pasture group with so little drama. The geldings have accepted him into their little herd, and Argus is handling it all beautifully. No pacing or running, and only the occasional bit of weaving. Argus weaves to relieve stress. He reminds me, when he weaves, of a child sucking its thumb.

Every evening over the past week, I have brought Argus back to his stall and paddock, where he sighed with relief and attacked his bucket of grain. He seemed happy to be back in his "room" and at peace about being separated from the pasture crew.

Last night, Argus looked so content. He was eating his dinner with his new friends, and something in his eyes made me hang his halter back on the fence. I decided that I would let him stay out all night. Late last night, I walked out in my pajamas to check on him. He was resting peacefully under the stars.